


Better When You're Here

by AlwaysAmused



Series: Syndicate Sickfics [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Also Jacob loves Ned so much and Ned loves Jacob SO MUCH, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I was indeed able to restrain myself for once, M/M, Ned's sick, Sickfic, The Evie/Henry tag is literally because they're mentioned in like one line, There's really no angst in this at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysAmused/pseuds/AlwaysAmused
Summary: Ned has contracted Jacob's illness and is feeling utterly miserable, but maybe his situation isn't as hopeless as it seems? Fluff and domesticity ahead!





	Better When You're Here

Ned is miserable.

Not because he’s been shot, or stabbed, or even punched; although he thinks that any of these things would be preferable. No, Ned is miserable because he’s stuck in bed, so sick that he can’t even focus on the paperwork that Jacob was kind enough to bring him. Said paperwork sits almost completely untouched at the bedside while Ned sniffs. His head feels heavy, his nose doesn’t work, and his stomach rolls uneasily (although he hasn’t thrown up) and goddammit, he _hates it_.

This is all Jacob’s fault. Jacob, who was so miserable the week before when he himself was ill. He’d made a blanket fort while Ned was at work, and as much as Ned hates to admit it, the prospect of a blanket fort in the living room sounds great just about now. The bedroom is dark and stuffy, and Ned doesn’t have the energy to get up and open the window, or even open the curtains. He isn’t sure he could stand the light, anyway.

Instead, he groans and rolls over, flinging the blankets off of himself as best he can, with arms that feel more like they’re made of noodles than bones. He coughs up something gross and groans again. His ears hurt, and he lifts his head just long enough to squint at the clock.

It is exactly three-twenty-five in the afternoon, and he isn’t sure when Jacob is coming back. Late, probably. He knows he should eat something, but his head still feels heavy, and he isn’t _that_ hungry. Also, the trudge he’d have to make to the kitchen seems daunting enough that he feels it isn’t worth it.

He shivers and tries to figure out where the blankets went. It’s unfair, he thinks as he wraps himself up in them again; he was _warm_ a minute ago. A minute later, he finds himself too hot to fall asleep and _goddammit he hates this_. Ned mutters swears under his breath and turns his pillow over to the cool side; only, he did that a moment ago and there _isn’t_ a warm side anymore.

“This is _bullshit_ ,” he mutters to himself, because this is _London_ goddammit, and it shouldn’t be this _warm_. This isn’t what he bargained for when he came to England. New York was humid and hot pretty much _always_ except in the dead of winter. England? Yeah, it’s pretty consistently humid thanks to all the rain, but there’s little chance of him getting a sunburn, thank God.

Except for today, apparently; God is cordially invited to kiss his ass, because Ned feels like he’s gonna _die_. He’s still hot, and he struggles around in the blankets for a minute, before sticking one leg out and off the side of the bed.

Ah. Okay, that’s a _little_  bit better.

He falls asleep and only wakes up when he hears someone say “Ned? Love, are you awake?”

“Uh?” Ned blinks and sees the blurry silhouette of his lover sitting over him. He’s displeased to learn that because he has to breathe through his mouth, he’s drooled all over the pillow. Jacob doesn’t seem to mind, though, and strokes his hair off his face.

“Hi,” Jacob replies, and there’s a hint of laughter in his voice. “Did I wake you up?”

Ned only hums in reply and feels around for something to blow his nose on, a sneeze itching the back of his nose. Jacob waits for him to blow, then says, “Have you eaten anything today?”

A little more awake now, Ned blinks up at him, frowning as he tries to remember. “Um,” he says, and that seems to be answer enough, because Jacob sighs. It’s more fond than irritated though.

“Do you want me to carry you to the kitchen?” Jacob asks. Normally, Ned would immediately have said _NO_ , but he _really considers_ it for a moment before shaking his head. Instead, Jacob helps him to his feet, steadying him when he sways, and they walk to the kitchen together, holding hands. Ned’s is clammy, he knows, but Jacob’s is dry and warm, and Ned is thankful for it.

Ned sits at the table while Jacob goes padding around the kitchen. He’s apparently already put the kettle on to boil, but Jacob takes a glass of water and sets it down in front of Ned before flipping through recipe books to think of something to cook.

Ned sips at the water, realizing while doing so that he is _parched_. He downs it, and Jacob refills it in a moment before pulling things out of cabinets. Sitting upright seems to have helped drain some of the fluid out of Ned’s ears, and they don’t hurt quite so much now. They pop when he yawns, and he can hear Jacob’s humming a little better now. Ned vaguely recognizes the tune, but his head still feels a little heavy.

He isn’t wearing his glasses, but he can see Jacob throwing him looks over his shoulder. Jacob seems relaxed though, so Ned thinks Jacob is smiling at him, the sap that he is. Ned can’t really smell anything, so instead he asks, “What are you making?”

“Soup,” Jacob says, glancing at Ned again and yeah, okay, Jacob is definitely smiling. Ned can hear it in his voice. “I picked up some chicken and other things while I was out.”

“Huh. Alright.” Ned zones out again until Jacob places a cup of tea down in front of him, except it isn’t _tea_ ; it’s clear-ish and when Ned picks up the spoon inside, he sees honey. “What’s this?” Ned asks.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s something Gran used to make for me an’ Evie when we were sick. Some herbal thing with honey; I don’t exactly remember what’s in it, but Evie had some and I pinched some off of her. S’pposed to help with sore throat.”

Ned hums and tries to smell it; an impossible feat, but the steam feels nice on his face. He sips at it while Jacob chops vegetables, and it tastes nice. It does soothe his throat though, and so Ned silently thanks Jacob’s grandmother and makes a mental note to thank Evie. He won’t tell her “thank you,” of course, but maybe he’ll send her and Henry something nice.

While the soup is cooking, they go into the living room, and Ned grins a little at the sight. Jacob has made a blanket fort on the sofa again, and Jacob grabs a book before they settle inside, Ned pressed against Jacob’s side. Jacob is a furnace, too warm for his own good, but for once Ned isn’t overly-hot. He’s comfortable with his head pressed to Jacob’s chest, comforted by the thumping of his heart, and Ned smiles when Jacob reads aloud to him. It’s a penny dreadful about God knows what, and normally Ned hates those—“We have full-length _books_ in the house, Jacob! Books, where you don’t actually have to wait for the next installment!”—but he loves the gentle rising and falling of Jacob’s reading voice, so he pays little attention to the story and focuses on Jacob’s tone, closing his eyes.

When Ned wakes up again, he’s alone on the sofa, but the warmness that surrounds him tells him he hasn’t been alone for long. He sighs, sits up, and hears Jacob in the kitchen. With a great amount of effort—and alright, maybe he’s exaggerating a little bit, but _only a little_ —Ned gets up and pulls a blanket around him like a cape before leaving the blanket fort. Jacob glances around when he comes into the kitchen.

“Oh, hello,” Jacob says, and Ned appreciates that he keeps his voice unusually soft. “Sorry if I woke you. Are you hungry? The soup’s done, but if you wanna go back to sleep…”

“Yeah, m’hungry,” Ned says, and winces at the harshness and soreness of his throat. Jacob comes over and presses a kiss to his forehead before Ned waves him away, sitting down. “If you get sick again, I’m gonna kill you,” he grumbles. Jacob only snorts in reply before serving Ned a bowl of soup, serving himself, and sitting down.

Dinner is a quiet affair, but Ned doesn’t mind. The soup is good, and he knows once he can smell again it’ll probably taste better. Jacob makes him another cup of that herbal remedy to soothe his throat, and then goes off to change the bedsheets.

The dishes, Jacob decides, can wait until morning. Ned knows he’s been sleeping all day, but when they settle down again, he feels himself slipping again. Jacob’s rubbing his hair and doesn’t seem to mind that he’s disgusting and sweaty and coughing up phlegm like nobody’s business. He kisses Ned’s cheeks and turns out the light, and in the dark they talk until Ned falls asleep again.

He’s warm, and he’s comfortable, and for now, Ned isn’t quite as miserable as he was in the afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Lol okay so I know this one is like twice the length of "Blanket Blues," but I was on a roll and couldn't seem to find a good place to stop. Leave a comment to let me know if you enjoyed it! Thanks!


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